Tea cups, hand holding and kisses
by xXSchmayXx
Summary: Sherlock cannot sleep one night, the thoughts of a certain doctor will not leave his head. Cute and fluffy Johnlock.


**My first Sherlock fanfic guys! I literally improvised with this one. It's not too bad considering. Thank you for reading! ^.^**

Sherlock awoke in the early hours of the morning. The sun had not risen yet but his watch told him it was 4am. He'd barely slept then. It was long after 1am when they had left the pool. Sherlock wondered if John had been able to sleep at all after his ordeal. He could see faint stars through a crack in his curtain and seeping through the gap under the door was a stream of light. He inwardly complained that John must have left it on during a late night bathroom dash. He closed his eyes, feeling too fatigued to walk a few steps and turn it off. Breathing silently through his nostrils he attempted to sleep once more. He had been able to have this much free time since the week before. Images of John and Sarah flitted into view for some reason. He saw them kissing, laughing, holding one another tenderly.

"_John.." _He murmured gently. A new feeling set itself in motion causing the Chinese food he had eaten early to churn uneasily in his stomach. Clutching fistfuls of his pillow case he buried his nose into the fabric in an attempt to blot out what his mind was showing him. Why couldn't John be holding him? The thought of loving somebody or even feeling a connection with a person was relatively new to Sherlock. Recently he'd been caring more for those around him, which caused a domino effect where everything seemed to crumble to the floor. He wanted John and he felt betrayed by himself for allowing it to happen. The man had saved his life too many times, even earlier when he grabbed Moriarty in his attempt to sacrifice his own life for his friend's.

"_Feelings. Why do you betray me now?" _He scolded himself aloud.

It was with a clatter of pots that Sherlock resorted to moving. John was clearly awake. Rolling his eyes he flung back the covers and slipped on his robe. The floor was cold to touch and his eyes were still adjusting to the light when he opened the door. Clearly he was not paying attention to his footing because he suddenly collided with a very awake John. The tea cup he was holding was half empty and his shirt felt damp. It took Sherlock a few moments to feel the searing pain of the scald he had received.

"_Jesus Sherlock!" _He complained, setting the cup onto the floor and grabbing his friends hand, Sherlock could not help but hiss through his teeth. His skin felt raw.

"_Ow." _He grunted dully.

"_Sink, now." _John ordered, dragging his friend to the nearby bathroom. The detective did not have time to protest. He co-operated, rolling up his sleeve, knowing that he'd regret not soothing the pain later. Sherlock relaxed when he felt a gentle hand massage cold water onto his burned fingers. It was oddly nice. He placed his other hand on the basin so John may also stroke that hand too.

"_This hurts too." _He lied. Obviously it was a lie. Even John could see that yet he felt compelled to reach out to him. When he thought that the hands had been treated for long enough he turned the tap off. Sherlock shivered at the sudden removal of John's touch. The Doctor clenched his fists, feeling strange now. He craved the Detective's touch too. He quickly thought of an excuse, grabbing Sherlock's fingers and bringing their body's closer together.

"_You're cold" _ He managed, aware that Sherlock saw right through him. He decided he would play along too, smirking.

"_You are cold too." _ Sherlock noted, attempting to catch a glimpse of John's eyes as his snaked his arm around the Doctor's waist. Upon feeling his touch, the pupils that sherlock was gazing into dilated wider than he had ever seen them before.

"_Yes.." _ John managed, gulping nervously. He knew right then his body had betrayed him, it did not help that Sherlock reached to his wrist and felt John's pulse. He did not want to admit he was gay. He was definitely not attracted to any other man. Yet there was something about the detective that made his stomach flutter. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for more deductions, ignoring the fact the Sherlock's pupils were also dilating.

"_John.." _

No answer, just their body's entwining.

"_John. All the signs are there.." _

No answer, just hands clasping and palms touching cheeks.

"_The signs that we are in love" _He finished, placing a gentle kiss on John's lips, smiling as he did so. Perhaps feeling was not a bad thing after all.


End file.
